To Sell One's Soul
by SkipunxCady
Summary: Everyone has a price they can willingly accept, even for what they hoped never to sell.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: This does not belong to me. If you think it does, well then, you're just ignorant. All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, except the random little ones I make up to help the story along. So you can't sue me. Ha. **

**Reviews are much appreciated, constructive criticism is extremely loved. Please and thank you, my lovelies. **

**To Sell One's Soul**

_Prologue_

This is not a story of happiness, love, and magic. This tale will not have a happy ending. Which means, if that's what you're looking for, this is your cue to escape unharmed. If you happen to stay, only to run away kicking and screaming later, it is not my fault. As far as I'm concerned, fairy tales don't even exist. How ironic, then, that I begin my story with the words "Once upon a time…"

Because this story really does take place once upon a time. It began not long ago, but I cannot recall the details of date and time. Lines between past and present have ceased to exist for me, and my memories have begun to blur and blend with one another. My only clear, untainted memories of my past are of _him_. The man I so unwillingly fell in love with, the man I so eagerly chose to spend forever with; the man I so quickly was destroyed by.

I gave myself too quickly, trusted him too much; and, now that my illusions of reality have been shattered, I sell a little more of myself each day. I don't know what exactly I am waiting for; but I guess I'm hoping that, after a miserable and lonely while, I will run out of things to sell. And maybe then my demise will finally release me from this broken shell: this body without a soul that traps me in this life.


	2. The Remnants

**Disclaimer: Again, it's not mine.**

_Chapter One: The Remnants_

It's been only five days, but it feels like forever since _he_ left again. But _he _didn't just leave. Oh no, Edward had decided to disappear with a bang.

_Flashback_

_I rushed up the stairs to his bedroom (can you call it that without a bed in it?), eager to see him after the week I'd just spent with my mom and Phil in Jacksonville. A week away from Edward was too long, but I had accepted it because it was the time I'd chosen to tell my mother about my engagement. Yes, I know; crazy, right? I, Bella Swan, will soon be married to the love of my life. For eternity. _

_When I tripped and he didn't catch me that should have been my first clue. When his arms and his crooked smile didn't greet me at his door, I should have known something was wrong. But I'd brushed all that off, had gone inside. He was sitting on his black leather couch, with his arm around a girl – a vampire girl – that I'd never seen before. He was kissing her. Kissing the way we couldn't; at least, we couldn't _yet_. But I didn't think the yet applied anymore. With tears running down my face, and silent sobs shaking my body, I placed my engagement ring on his CD shelf and walked out the door. Out of the house. Out of his life. What could have been my life too, if I had been just a bit more…well…lovable. I vaguely remember Alice's horror-stricken face and her pleading with me to wait until she'd spoken with Edward. I didn't. _

_Because I was too busy crying, and thinking about the most painful truth of all: that was not just Edward cheating on me, it was Edward breaking up with me too. Because after I'd gotten to the house, he would have heard me. Smelled me. He could have hidden the girl and his unfaithfulness from me; he chose not to. He wanted me to see. _

_End Flashback_

After that, he left. Probably with his new girlfriend. But what broke me over again was that the Cullens left with him. They would have to leave soon anyway, since the town was getting suspicious, and now I wasn't going with them. Alice promised she'd come back to see me very soon, but I probably won't be here. I don't expect to live that long.

See, I've been shutting off. Physically, emotionally – I guess is it an instinctual reaction, my subconscious trying to keep me from pain. But I want it; if my pain is the only thing left tying me to Edward, the only remnant of our past relationship, then why would I want to give it up? I refuse to forget, and I refuse to deny that he exists, what he meant to me. I'm seeking pain out now, trying to get a hold on it. Not physical pain really, because I never did deal with it well and it isn't necessary, but emotionally pain. Memories of all the happiness I had with Edward and his family, hopes of what I could have had. I would be lying, though, if I said I was trying to stay alive.

It's like I'm figuratively walking through the woods, waiting and hoping for Victoria to come for me. Okay, so I'm doing that literally too. But only when I'm not busy sleeping on the forest floor or hiding from the search parties that Charlie's sending out.


	3. Drink From Me

**Disclaimer: Oh, come on now; do characters as amazing as these and a plot as wonderful as this look like they belong to me? A plain, un-amazing girl? Nope. Everything belongs to Stephanie Meyer. **

_Chapter Two-Drink From Me_

The ghost of a smile haunted my face as I studied the scene around me, playing around the edges as if teasing and reminding my lips how it felt to curve upwards, to look happy. My misery felt unwelcome in this green wilderness, and the crimson flame spreading toward me now seemed even more menacing: the forces of nature wanted my bleak intrusion gone. I kept trudging forward, even when I felt the woods awaken to their defenses. A frigid breeze slashed at my skin, branches slapped my cheek, and a tree root sent my flying into a wall of stone. I let the woods punish me for invading its happiness with my pain, for disturbing its peace. I asked it to forgive me, to end my accursed misery quickly. I never expected a response.

Through my pain-induced haze, I heard laughter: a wicked, cackling celebration of some victory I was not aware of. And then it stopped and she was in front of me, pinning me to the tree. Victoria.

"I'm afraid, dear Bella, that I cannot forgive you. Nor will I be merciful in ending your misery." She stared at me, the intensity of her hatred appearing to lessen in response to something she saw. "However, since I am curious and since this unplanned addition may make the game a bit more interesting, I want you to tell me a story. A story about Edward and your so-called misery. "I must have been looking at her like she was mental; it was either that, or I was, and I had imagined her saying that. "Prove to me that your suffering is greater than my own, and maybe I'll go a tad easier on you. Indulge my childish desire to hear a story, and maybe I will go easier on the Cullen's when I track Edward next."

The last threat got to me. I took Victoria's hand and sat down in the middle of the woods; and I told a story that I knew with every fiber of my being, that was etched into my soul so it might live forever, a different version of Juliet's tragic tale.

By the time the last tragically beautiful memories left my lips, I was falling apart. Victoria looked lost, empty, as if I'd stripped her of her purpose and therefore her sanity. She must have found herself again, though, for her crimson eyes settled back on my face.

"You have suffered….as I have. But I can't let you escape untouched, can I? I have to avenge James. To do this for him, for myself. And I haven't played James' favorite game in a long time. Fitting, then, that I play for him the game he never got to finish – isn't it?" She seemed to address her question as much to herself as to me. And, not much of a surprise now, I nodded. "Finish the game. Please," I managed to whisper, as I offered her my wrist.

She lowered her mouth to my flesh slowly, almost reverently, and her eyes met mine one last time. "I apologize, Bella. I wish it did not have to be this way."

And then she drank from me.


	4. A Fair Trade

**Disclaimer: If you haven't picked it up by now, I doubt stating it again will do you any good. But, for good form, I shall. This. Does. Not. Belong. To. Me. Mmkay?**

_Chapter Three: A Fair Trade_

But I woke up. Three miserable days later, my eyes fluttered open. I remembered my transformation as I would a nightmare: it had burned, stretched, battered and broken me, and I had given into my urge to scream. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have worried about moving somewhere that no one could hear me or see me. But I was too lost in the fire that consumed my body. I must have passed out a few times, for there are missing chunks of time that I know must have occurred. When conscious, my wordless screams filled the air and thoughts of an eternity without love filled my mind. That is, when I could think coherently at all.

Now, as I looked around me, I realized where I was: the Cullen's house. _In what used to be Alice and Jasper's room_, I guessed. I had no idea how I had gotten here, whether Victoria had given me immortality and carried me here too, or whether I had managed to stumble here on my own. Considering my normal ability to walk through the woods, combined with the pure agony I had been experiencing, I seriously doubted the latter theory. _Which meant she _was_ sorry,_ I thought. And she had apologized the only way she could: by changing me and making sure I would make it safely through the transformation.

On the table beside me there was a small slip of paper, featuring an elegant script. _Almost as beautiful as Edward's_, I mused.

And winced.

But her words puzzled me. "_A fair trade", _it said just above her signature. _Trade? What did that mean?? Perhaps that I had traded my blood for her mercy? The chance to avenge James for an eternity as a vampire? _ One thought occupied my mind, then: _Why? Why would Victoria bother to "trade" with me when she could have taken what she wanted without giving in return? _I would probably never have that answer.

Still pondering, I stretched out on the bed and then got to my feet. Directly in front of me was a mirror, and out of habit my eyes immediately closed. Did I dare look? Of course I did; and, as always, I was uncomfortable with what I saw. My hair was the same wavy brown, my body the same small and unnoticeable frame. The only difference in my appearance was my eyes, which were now the familiar onyx color I had come to associate with hunger.

I turned from the mirror, reminded of my failure to please Edward, and decided to get my first hunt over with. I would have to teach myself all I needed to know and do, including the restraint needed to live on a vegetarian diet. I would not give in to evil temptations; I would prove that not all vampires were monsters, even if the only one I was proving it to was myself.


	5. Where Loyalties Lie

**Disclaimer: Yeah, it is definitely not mine. I'm not that awesome.**

_Chapter 4 – Where Loyalties Lie_

It was time to leave Forks, and my past, behind. But in order to do that, I would need money and a new name. And to get those quickly without attracting attention, I would need help. Which was the reason I was now standing just outside the borders of La Push, waiting for the boys I once called friends to sense my presence and come running.

I didn't have to wait long.

"Bella?" Jacob gasped in shock.

The boys' faces all showed mixtures of surprise and anger, but none as much as the one who had once been my best friend and my safe harbor.

"Who did this? The _Cullen's_?"

My sad eyes silenced the curses they muttered and, I hoped, gave them the comfort I could no longer provide with a hug or a gentle word. And, even though it took a while, I convinced them not to hunt her down; I told them everything that had happened the past several days. Well, details excluded. It seemed all I did now was tell stories about my pathetic life. _Oh joy._

Somehow, we managed to talk the entire day almost comfortably, an extremely difficult thing to do when our instincts were screaming to tear each other apart. It seemed the bond I had formed with them several months ago was stronger than any of us had thought. Still, they would not grant me any favors. The vampire in my head snarled in fury, but I simply nodded; I was their enemy now.

And that was when it struck me: the idea that would eventually become the sole purpose of my life. The werewolves could provide the fastest and easiest way out of Forks, and I wouldn't – couldn't – give in so easily.

Perhaps a fair trade would tempt them? Lucky for me, it did. We stood around for fifteen more minutes, until twilight, hashing out details until we finally came to an agreement: my loyalty for their help in creating a new identity for me. I had to promise to keep the secret of their existence in Forks, to drink only from animals, and to kill as many vampires as possible. And, of course, I had to disappear and stay away; I had to fake my own death. I was fine with the majority of the terms since I would have done those things anyway, but I wasn't exactly the killing type. I'd like to think they understood.

-------------

That's how I made my escape from the place that held so many memories, the place I no longer belonged. That's how I buried Isabella Swan, and became Bella Mason. How I took one step forward and sealed my fate.


	6. Business Partners

**Disclaimer: This is the last time I'll say this...It's NOT mine!**

Two weeks in this little town and already I'm going crazy. I can hear you in my head; I have conversations with you. If I pretend enough that you're here, I truly believe you are. All of this keeps me from moving on, keeps me holding my arms around myself in pain. I guess some of that's good, though. It provides me with an excuse to stay indoors most of the time. The humans think I'm mental, so they keep their distance. The solitude helps a lot; I haven't slipped once.

There is once person who knows what I am. One human, I should say. Her name is Sarah. She's the unofficial leader of this small Alaskan community, and the only being that I could claim as friend in this vast world. We're more like business partners than friends, though. We don't discuss personal stuff; I figure it's best not to get attached to anyone, and she figures it's best not to get attached to a vampire. I understand her logic. Someone should have told me that (besides you, obviously); don't get me wrong, I still love you and I figured my heartbreak was bound to happen – I was human and plain, after all – but I should have prevented our unhealthy attachment. I'm sorry I was so stubborn.

Sarah's knowledge of vampires is limited; she has had some experience before, some tragedy that was caused by our kind, that she won't reveal. That's how she knew what I was; I've told her enough about me to make her trust me a little at least: that I don't hunt humans. It took a lot of convincing for that to occur, believe me. She's scared out of her mind, but is still trying to protect the others; it's really brave, actually. Either that, or completely stupid. Anyway, that's where I come in: she's unofficially hired me as "town protector". I keep their town safe from all manner of creatures – natural and unnatural – in exchange for her silence and a place to stay. She's given me my own little house on the edge of town, the choice of any wild animal I may find in the area, and the knowledge that my secret is safe. This is all I will ever be able to expect of life, and so I am grateful.


	7. Letting Go

People say 'It's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all'. And while I pray to God each day that it might be so, every fiber of my being screams that it is not. I ache in a way I never thought I could, as if my heart has been torn out and it has left a forever bleeding hole in my chest. When that feeling does not take me, the emptiness does; I can find no peace. It's worse than death, living like this. Living with the memories of what was, the dreams of what would have been. Living with the knowledge that, in the end, I couldn't be enough.

As a human, I wasn't good enough for you – so much so that love could not last, not even until you could change me into someone better. As a vampire, I guess I still do not measure up to expectations. You would have found me already if you thought I could. And it has taken me this long to realize that I am still waiting for you. Silly of me, I know. But, after all, you know how weak I am: how much in love.

It's not for lack of trying to forget that I've still been hoping you'll return to me. I've tried so hard, but it has been for naught. It's this wretched soul, that's kept me caged. I don't believe that we lose our souls when we're changed, not like you. How else do I explain my continued heartache, my love for you? I've learned a lot in my short life as a vampire, have formed my own theories: about love, the soul, eternity. And the main belief that it all hinges upon is that we _do_ have a soul. All of us; vampires, werewolves, humans, and whatever other creatures that exist on this earth. Now, some of us, our souls become tarnished, blackened like a smoker's lung or wood after it's been burning awhile. Those are the souls of the Volturi, of rapists, murderers, and all other beings that do horrible things _by choice_ – just because it feels good. But not you, not me. If we could have chosen to avoid our thirst for blood, we would have. Good vampires still have souls, Edward.

But I've found a way to change that. In my acquiring of theories and fact, I stumbled upon a way to actually rid myself of a soul. Not tarnish it or mangle it, but actually live without it. I won't have to _feel _anymore, Edward. I won't have to talk to you in my head, won't have to pretend you're here anymore. Because it won't matter. The love will be gone; all capability of emotion (happiness, sadness, anger, love) will be gone. I suppose I'll kind of be like a robot, but I won't be missing anything because I won't remember what it was like to feel. Of this, I made sure.

You see, a stranger came to town a few weeks ago. He's not a vampire or a werewolf, but he's certainly not human either. I'm not quite sure what he is and I don't think I want to know. What I do know, is that he calls himself a 'collector of souls'. There's some sort of ceremony he can perform, that takes the soul from a body and transfers it to him. I've seen him do it, to a few of the other people in town. People who didn't want to live anymore, at least not the way they were. And I plan to have this man perform the ceremony on me.

I'll take the risk, live with any consequences there might be. Because I can't do this anymore. I love you, and it hurts. I could go on loving you forever, in agony and alone. But why should I? I've thought about it a great deal, and I don't see the point. It's true, at another time I would have done anything before I sold my soul. That's kind of what it is, after all. I would have died, have done any scandalous or outrageous things before I ever sold my soul. But it's different now. You don't want me, and I don't want to live with the pain that gives me.

So I'll give up Heaven, if that's where it is your soul is supposed to go when you die. I'll give up my feelings, my last connection to you and humanity. I'll do it all for a bit of peace. I love you, but I'm letting go. You did it; why can't I? Sure, it's a different kind of letting go but does it really matter now? I'm so…tired. Tired of hurting, of feeling, of missing you. So I'm done. It bothers me a bit, morally and such, that I should do it this way. But my need to escape is great and the temptation to obey it has overwhelmed me. So, I love you. But I'm letting go.


	8. Of Ceremonies

Disclaimer: Alas, 'tis not my possession.

"Tell me your story," he said.

When I asked him why, he said it was part of the ceremony. He needed the story to take the soul. So, reluctantly, I agreed. And, as I spoke, I felt surprisingly…okay. The usual emotions that overwhelmed me when I thought about Edward did not surface. I was empty. At first I shook it off, but the more I told him the more I felt it. It dawned on me that he was taking my emotions through my words; my soul was leaving me as I spoke. I paused. Did I want to do this? I felt tiny bursts of emotion fill me, returning in my silence.

"Finish!" he growled. I took an unnecessary breath to steady myself, and continued.

Then it was done. I was devoid of emotion. But I remembered having feelings; I couldn't feel sorry that I'd given my soul away, but I was conscious of the fact that something amazing was absent from me. I wanted to rid myself of the memories, but the man had disappeared. And I was alone with my memories. I tried living that way, for a while. But remembering happiness, remembering how wonderful it could be to feel… it was not conducive to a peaceful lifestyle. I think something must have gone wrong in the process. I've lost my soul, and I'm still miserable. All other feelings have left me, and the only word I can find for this state I am in is…misery. What other escape can there be from this world of despair?

Except…death?

Maybe my demise will finally release me from this broken shell, this body without a soul that traps me in this life.


	9. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Yuppers, you're right; it's not mine.

Author's Note: This is written in Edward's POV.

_Epilogue:_

Isabella Marie Swan, or Bella Masen – as she came to be called, took her own life on June 3rd, five days after she sold her soul.

But I will save her. I refuse to let her remain in hell, when I am the reason she became what she did. She has always been my angel, and she deserves Heaven. I love her, have always loved her. And I refuse to believe it is too late. I _will_ see her again.


End file.
